


Honey, I Wanna Break You

by anomalously



Series: Tr[eat] Your Boyfriend Right [1]
Category: Shameless (US)
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Dom/sub Undertones, Light Bondage, M/M, Praise Kink, Rimming, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-25
Updated: 2015-06-25
Packaged: 2018-04-06 01:58:33
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,038
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4203627
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/anomalously/pseuds/anomalously
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>They weren't any kind of BDSM connoisseurs or anything like that, and Ian certainly wasn't always “the boss” or whatever, but he was gunning to make Mickey let go and feel good. The point is, Mickey and Ian throughly enjoy tying each other up every once in a while. And it had been entirely too long since they played like this. </p><p>(Ian 'my bf's ass is perf' Gallagher + Mickey 'my bf is tryna kill me' Milkovich) Insp. by <i>Desire, Meg Myers</i></p>
            </blockquote>





	Honey, I Wanna Break You

**Author's Note:**

> Honey, I wanna break you | I wanna throw you to the hounds,  
> Yeah I gotta hurt you | I gotta hear from your mouth  
> Boy, I wanna taste you | I wanna skin you with my tongue  
> I'm gonna kill you, | I'm gonna lay you in the ground
> 
> The song is so good & fucking hot. So. [You should listen to it](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=bnee3sWMVW4) if you already haven't.

Ian yawned, sliding his key into the lock to open his apartment door. It was quiet inside, only the dingy little table-lamp lit in the living room. Mickey’s keys were already on the little kitchen table, along with his wallet and phone. Thank god.

They’d been on weird schedules lately, between him picking up a couple night shifts at the diner and Mickey pulling doubles at the garage. It’d been too long since they hung out, way too long since they had time and energy to _enjoy_ sex —lately it was just quick, tired fucks right before they fell asleep.

He started pulling at his clothes while he walked to the bedroom, the wet smell of shampoo permeating the air; Mickey must have just gotten out of the shower. Ian grinned, seeing the brunette had obviously just pulled on a pair of boxers and flung himself on top of their bed, face first. 

His work pants and shirt were hanging off the side of the bed. He had his face pillowed in the crook of his folded arms, his body moving slowly with each breath. Mickey looked so good, always looked good; Ian’s mouth watered at the sight of his boyfriend, wanting nothing more than to touch every part of Mickey he could.

Making sure to keep quiet, Ian carefully crawled onto the bed, hovering next to Mickey’s body for a moment. Most of the water droplets had dried off of Mickey’s pale skin, but there were little clusters here and there. He caught his bottom lip between his teeth and settled down on the back of Mickey’s thighs, reaching out to slide his hands up and down his back.

Mickey stirred with a small questioning grunt.

Ian leaned down, covering Mickey’s body with his own; he licked at the stray droplets of water and pressed his face in between Mickey’s shoulders, inhaling the scent of his freshly scrubbed skin and.

“Smells so good,” Ian murmured, his body already aching for as much as the brunette was willing to give him. It had been a while since he got to touch Mickey like this, so Ian planned on taking full advantage of the situation.

Mickey murmured something, his voice full of sleep and distorting his words.

Ian leaned back, dragging in fingers down the length of Mickey’s spine, “Hm?”

“Tired,” Mickey said more clearly, but his hips pushed down against the bed, telling Ian that he was seeking out that friction and pressure.

Ian gave a half-grin, curling his fingers around the waist of Mickey’s boxers, “I got you.”

While Ian had recently been tired after working, Mickey had been fucking _exhausted_ for the past couple weeks. He would roll his shoulders in the mornings and stretch, trying to ease his aching muscles. Honestly, the guy was running himself ragged. 

“You want me to take care of you, Mick?” Ian asked, his voice low. He inched down the back of Mickey’s boxers, revealing that perfect fucking ass that Ian still could not believe he got to fuck, and grab, and touch, and play with. It was unreal.

Mickey gave this deep, throaty noise of a response, his head nodding.

Ian took a perfect cheek in each hand, staring down at Mickey’s ass under his grip, digging his fingers into the soft flesh. Yeah, so he was a little obsessed, maybe even a little addicted, but who fucking _wouldn't_ be? Mickey was moving under him, just barely, again, pressing hips hips down into the mattress every time Ian grabbed at him.

He shimmied further down Mickey’s legs, pressing his lips to the brunette’s spine, working his mouth and tongue on the way down. Mickey’s breathing hitched, his hips pressing harder into the mattress.

Ian grabbed at and kissed the cheeks of Mickey’s ass, dragging his tongue and teeth along his skin, drawing a few breaths of anticipation from his boyfriend.

“Fucking perfect,” Ian panted against the curve of Mickey’s ass. God, he was so keyed up already. “Perfect fucking ass, Mickey.”

Ian looked up when Mickey’s hips pushed back, seeing his boyfriend wedge his hand between his body and the bed. Heat pulled in the bottom of Ian’s belly; he quickly pulled both of the shorter man’s arms behind his back, holding them there with one hand while his other worked the belt out of his jeans.

“Son of a bitch,” Mickey huffed a laugh against the mattress, his voice more awake now.

“Told you Imma take care of you,” Ian grinned, essentially folding Mickey’s arms behind his back, using his belt to wrap around and secure his forearms. Then he reached over and yanked Mickey’s belt from his work pants, using it to weave around and secure his upper arms, because Mickey was a wiggler, and if given the chance, would pull a fucking Houdini. 

They weren't any kind of BDSM connoisseurs or anything like that, and Ian _certainly_ wasn't always “the boss” or whatever, but he was gunning to make Mickey let go and feel good. The point is, Mickey and Ian throughly enjoy tying each other up every once in a while. And it had been entirely too long since they played like this. 

Mickey groaned low and long, his hands clenching and unclenching in the crooks of his elbows. He squirmed against the bed as Ian went back to dragging his hands up and down his sides, to raking his dull fingernails down the curve of his ass.

“That good?” Ian asked, swallowing hard at the sight. 

“Yeah,” Mickey said. “Real good.”

Ian hovered over Mickey’s back, slipping his hand down between Mickey and the bed, “How fucking hard are you right now? Probably making a mess, huh?”

Mickey gasped out when Ian’s wrapped his hand around him, the angle kind of odd, but he made it work, feeling Mickey leaking all over the sheets and his stomach.

“Fuck,” Ian panted, his whole body aching even more, if possible. 

He released Mickey’s weeping cock and scooted back down his body, tugging at Mickey’s boxers until they were hooked around his knees. Mickey wiggled, looking like he was trying to push his boxers down even more, but Ian stilled him by grabbing two handfuls of his ass again. Mickey punched out a breath, his back arching.

Ian dipped his head down working his lips and tongue over Mickey’s hole, making him shudder and whine low, trying to pull out of his restraints. Ian gripped Mickey’s ass tight as he lapped at him, trailing his tongue in little patters that he knew made his boyfriend go fucking crazy.

“Up,” Ian instructed, helping Mickey to lift up onto his knees, his shoulders and face pressed tightly into the mattress, ass up in the air for Ian to take advantage of. The sight made Ian groan and rub himself over his jeans.

“You should see how fucking good you look like this,” Ian told Mickey, rubbing his fingers up and down his hole in long strokes. 

Mickey was moaning out loud now. Ian groaned at how fucking sloppy with spit Mickey was, how it was borderline fucking filthy, but that was them sometimes —borderline filthy, if not completely. It was what got both of them going the most, messy slick mouths and asses and cocks… Jesus Ian was so painfully hard, this was almost out of hand. 

Holding tightly to pale hips, he leaned forward and buried his face in Mickey’s ass, tonguing and kissing at that tight bundle of nerves, listening to his boyfriend whine —he sighed and moaned back at Mickey, making him shudder and whine some more. 

He could do this all fucking night, he really could. Mickey’s ass was a work of fucking art, and was so fucking sensitive inside and out. (Ian had got him to come once just from eating him out for a good half hour straight; it was fucking _glorious_.) 

Mickey pushed back against Ian’s face, hips jerking with want. Ian felt his spit build up and dribble down his chin as he continued to lap softly at Mickey, his fingers digging into his hips tightly, groaning at those sick wet sounds his mouth made against Mickey. His tongue trailed his tongue down to Mickey’s perineum and then back up, doing this over and over again, knowing Mickey wanted more, judging by the needy whines he was making.

Ian blew warm air across Mickey’s hole, “You’re so good, Mick. You’re being _so_ good for me, whining like that. I could sit here and do this all fucking night.”

Mickey let out a strangled sound against the mattress, his arms trying to pull apart, trying to pull one of his little escape acts. Ian pressed the tip of his middle finger to Mickey’s hole, pressing forward until his boyfriend stilled; Ian grinned, leaning forward to use his tongue at the same time, his free hand reaching between Mickey’s legs to wrap around that weeping, neglected cock.

“Fucking _Christ_ ,” Mickey’s muffled groan cut through the room; he moved, trying to both push back against Ian’s finger and buck his hips into Ian’s hand.

Ian didn't move his hand up and down Mickey’s cock, just pulsed it a little, squeezing just barely and letting his grip loosen as his middle finger sunk even deeper, opening his boyfriend up. He stayed like that for a few minutes, pulling his finger in and out, pulsing his hand, listening to Mickey breathe harshly and moan out every curse known to man. 

Ian was teasing his boyfriend, torturously so, _barely_ avoiding his prostate on purpose, only using one finger. But Mickey was being so good about it, letting Ian play and use him like that. Fuck he was so good. As a reward, pushed his ring finger into Mickey, holding his thumb snugly against his perineum as he opened him up more.

“You’re so good for me,” Ian breathed, completely entranced by the sight of his fingers being swallowed up by Mickey’s ass. “Fucking perfect ass so tight around my fingers, Mick.”

Mickey’s whole body was flushed; he bucked his hips and shuddered out a moan; he was trying to spread his knees even further apart, but his boxers stopped him. Ian grinned at that but made no move to help Mickey out, wanting him to stay exactly where he was.

It was hard to keep his body calm; he knew he was probably making a giant wet spot on the front of his boxers; his hard-on strained painfully in his jeans, but Ian just kept breathing, focusing on Mickey instead. He’d been working so hard lately, coming home so worn out that Ian thought he more than deserved a little special treatment. 

Finally, Ian slid his pointer finger with his middle and ring fingers, stretching Mickey out even more, earning more grunts and moans that were starting to sound like half-sobs. 

"That fucking ass, Mickey," Ian groaned, gnawing at his lip. "Jesus Christ."

Mickey was giving into everything Ian was giving him. So Ian sought out Mickey’s prostate, gently prodding and rubbing at the sweet spot.

“Oh fuck fuck fuck,” Mickey jerked and gasped, “Please Ian, — _fuck_.”

Ian pressed harder against Mickey’s spot, gripping his cock tightly, “You wanna come?”

The growling, grunting noises that Mickey was making were barely recognizable as human. He arched and bowed his back, his fists clenching so tightly that his knuckles went white, both belts restraining his arms cutting into his skin and stretching a little as he struggled against them. 

For a second, Ian was a little worried that Mickey was going to completely Hulk-Out and break the straps of leather. Sometimes he forgot how solid and fucking _strong_ Mickey was. (It was a common mistake people made, given his stature, but the man was a beast.)

Ian backed off of Mickey’s prostate with a grin, “Fuck you’re so fucking hot, Mick. You should fucking see yourself. You’re being so good for me, so patient.”

Mickey panted and shuddered from his words, murmuring a soft, “Thank you.”

Ian arched a brow at that, but didn't say anything. That was new, but it lit a small fire in Ian’s belly for some reason, made his whole focus go off-kilter.

He released Mickey’s cock and gently slipped his fingers from his ass. Mickey protested loudly with another inhuman grunt, his back arching down as he pressed his face into the mattress. Ian tried not to rush, tried to take his time while he grabbed the lube and condom from the bedside table, but he was so fucking turned on and wanted to bury himself inside Mickey so bad, it was getting harder to keep his cool.

Ian smoothed his hands over Mickey’s ass, up his back and over his arms, squeezing his muscles and rubbing at his skin. Mickey sighed softly and leaned back against Ian, basically sitting back into his lap, pressing his bare skin against the scratchy material of Ian’s jeans.

He loved touching his boyfriend, loved the feel of his soft, hot skin. Mickey’s skin was like a silk furnace, always so hot under his touch, and so fucking _sensitive._  It drove Ian crazy how he could brush his fingers against a certain spot and Mickey would be ready to go.

“Do you need to sit up or something for a minute?” Ian asked.

“M’good,” Mickey panted.

“Okay,” Ian grinned, sliding his hands down the length of Mickey’s body, down the sides of his thighs to hook his fingers around the band of his boxers, helping his boyfriend to maneuver so he could finally take them off and allow him to move his legs better. 

Immediately, Mickey spread his knees wider than before. Ian lubed up two fingers and sunk them back into him in one go, unable to resist, but it went to much smoother with the lube and Mickey was all about it, so Ian couldn't deny him of this. He found his prostate again, rubbing at it gently, pulling whines from his boyfriend.

“Ian, please…” Mickey shudders, “Please.”

Mickey’s more than earned it at this point, and Ian is slowly losing his fucking sanity over how perfect his boyfriends ass longs wrapped around his fingers like that. 

Ian quickly strips his jeans and boxers off, throwing them to the floor. He hurries as he takes the condom from the wrapper and rolls it on, uses the leftover lube on his fingers to slick himself up, pumping a good few times, taking deep breaths as he does this.

He rests for a minute at Mickey’s entrance, reaching up with one hand to grab a hold of the belt that he wound around Mickey’s upper arms using it for leverage. As Ian holds himself with his other hand, he starts pressing inside his boyfriends burning hot body.

Mickey was so fucking tight and hot and felt so completely perfect around Ian. He pushed forward, focusing on Mickey’s whines and grunts. Ian eased slowly into his boyfriend until he bottomed-out with a low moan. Fuck this was perfect. Fucking perfect. Mickey was so good and perfect and god _damn_.

“God, you feel so fucking good. You take it so good, Mick,” Ian moaned, his skin tingling from head to toe.

Blindly, he reached behind him and grabbed a couple pillows, carefully shoving them under Mickey’s hips so he had something to rest on and still keep his ass up in the air. Mickey groaned heavily, sinking down onto the pillows, his ass clenching just barely around Ian. Ian shivered and held onto the belt with two hands. His body hummed and ached so badly for release, for wanting to push Mickey up until he couldn't think straight anymore.

“You wanna show me how good you can be, Mick?” Ian asked, pressing his hips tightly against Mickey, pushing as far as he could into his body. “Can you be good and let go for me?”

Mickey arched and gasped, his head nodding quickly, sucking in sharp gasps of air, “Yeah… oh fucking _fuck_ … I wanna… I wa—”

“Shh,” Ian hushed him gently, pulling out just barely and snapping his hips back again, jerking Mickey’s whole body. He did this a few more times, testing how far gone his boyfriend was; he was pretty fucking gone, “Breathe, baby. Let go for me, show me how good you are.”

Mickey rutted against the pillows, pushing back against Ian, trying to take him in even more, trying to get him to move faster. Ian’s eyes rolled back as he moved his hands down to his boyfriends hips, holding him still with a tight grip. Mickey was slipping away into that needy-bottom headspace that drove Ian crazy.

When Mickey was like this, he abandoned all the badass-thug pretenses. He stripped all that away from himself and was fucking _brazen_ at times. Ian loved his demanding, impatient boyfriend who could get selfish and rough in bed, who liked to throw him around and liked to be thrown around too. Ian loved all that, _craved_ that. 

But there was something about Mickey willingly breaking down his walls for Ian, for trusting him enough to just… _be_ and _say_ and _do_ , without worrying about anything else out in the world or looking stupid or “sounding too gay” as the brunette would say. Ian couldn't describe it if he wanted to. It was the best fucking feeling in the world, Mickey trusting him.

“You take it so good, Mick,” Ian panted, rocking hips hips, sliding in and out of Mickey’s ass, watching where they connected. “So fucking good, you’re such a good boy.”

Mickey keened and arched his back, sobbing out rough grunts. “Please…”

Ian clenched his eyes shut, steeling himself, “What do you need?”

“Harder,” Mickey answered immediately, his voice somewhat muffled against the bed as he turned his head to rest on the other cheek. “Fuck me hard… please.”

“Gonna let that mouth run like a good boy?” Ian asked him, moving his hips just a little faster, pulling halfway out and then snapping back inside Mickey’s heat, pulling more whines from the brunette. “Gonna be good for me and give me what I want, so I can give you what you want?”

Mickey nodded vigorously, “Yes, I promise. I’ll be good for you, I’ll be so fucking good.”

Ian groaned, biting at his bottom lip, “Fuck, Mick.”

He pulled almost all the way out of Mickey and slammed back inside, making his boyfriend punch out a grunt. Ian kept at it, snapping his hips harshly, holding onto the belt secured around Mickey’s arms. 

He pulled him back roughly as he thrusted forward, getting completely lost in the feel of being inside of Mickey and hearing the incoherent babbling coming from Mickey’s mouth. Ian didn't even know everything that he was saying besides _yes_ and _fuck_ and _so good_. 

Mickey's babbling drove him on while Ian kept praising him on how well he took his cock, how good he looked so full and needy under him. Mickey shivered and thanked him for his words, over and over again, and Ian thought he'd come undone just from that.

The sound of flesh pounding against flesh, of whines and groans and that inhuman grunting that Mickey sobbed out filled the room. Ian slid his hands down to grab onto Mickey’s ass, getting two tight handfuls of the flesh, drilling into him. 

God he was going to fucking _wreck_ him tonight. It was a good thing neither one of them had to go into work early tomorrow, Ian wasn’t sure he’d wake up from the coma he knew he was going to slip into after this. He ignored his muscles straining —all that shit that didn't matter because he was fucking lucky enough to get to have Mickey like this. It was all worth it.

Ian pressed a hand between Mickey’s shoulders, pushing him down further, angling so he was hitting where he knew Mickey’s prostate was. Mickey shook under him, pushing his ass back to meet Ian’s pounding.

“Wanna come,” Mickey said over and over again.

Ian grunted out a laugh, fucking pleased as punch to hear those words, feeling his own wave of urgency wash over his body, his body tightening. He reached under Mickey and took the pillows out from under him; Mickey knew how to situate himself on his knees, his face and shoulders still being held down against the bed.

“Gonna come for me like a good boy?” Ian moaned, pistoning into him, their bed creaking madly under them.

“Yeah,” Mickey whined, back to struggling with his restraints. “Fuck, Ian touch me… please, I’m f-fucking dying.”

Ian reached under Mickey and took him in his hand, stroking him in time with his thrusts. In a matter of seconds, Mickey was shaking and coming into his hand, the act alone triggering Ian’s own climax. It was blinding and hot and both of them completely collapsed, unable to support their own weight anymore.

“God, so good,” Ian gasped for breath; he reached for Mickey’s dirty work shirt that was still at the corner of the bed, wiped his hands off and slipped out of the thoroughly abused condom, throwing it away in the little trash can kept by the bed.

“You did so fucking good,” he murmured, unbuckling the belts that restrained Mickey. He carefully unfolded his boyfriends arms, rubbing deeply into the muscles there and up to his shoulders. Mickey stayed silent, breathing heavily against the bed while Ian took care of him.

“Good boy,” Ian whispered, his hands shaking, but he kept rubbing at Mickey, up and down his arms and back and sides, bending down to kiss up his spine. “Thank you, Mick. Thank you for being so good for me.”

There were indentations on Mickey’s arms front the belts, his skin glowing with a thin layer of sweat. He was flushed pink, his whole body kind of jerking and trembling from aftershocks. Ian kept rubbing and massaging his boyfriend until his body stilled, kept telling him how good he was and thanking him for letting Ian take care of him.

Ian rolled Mickey onto his back and climbed on top of him, looking down into those baby blue eyes. Both of them grinned at each other at the same time.

“You good?” Ian asked.

Mickey nodded, “Never better.”

Ian breathed out a laugh, bending down to press his lips against Mickey’s, working him soft and slow there, tasting cigarettes and mint and just _Mickey_ on his tongue. Mickey sighed into his mouth and wrapped his arms round him, dragging him down so they were pressed against each other tightly.

“Missed you,” Mickey murmured against Ian’s mouth, spreading his legs so Ian could settle on top of him more. His hands slid down Ian’s back and grabbed onto his ass, “Fuck, I missed you.”

Ian hadn’t _been_ anywhere, but he knew what Mickey meant, without having it clarified. He missed Mickey too. He groaned into Mickey’s mouth, feeling him wrap his legs around him. He leaned back and laughed, “Jesus Mick, are you serious? You’re gonna kill me.”

“You’re not up for round two?” Mickey grinned cheekily.

“I feel like we just went five rounds,” Ian replied, his body pressing down onto Mickey involuntarily. God the things this man did to him, even after he was fucking exhausted.

Mickey smirked and rolled them until he hovered over Ian, pinning his hands above his head, “Don’t worry about it.”

Ian arched a brow at him, moaning when his boyfriend leaned down and kissed him hungrily, fucking his mouth all slow with his tongue. Damn Mickey Milkovich and his disgustingly fast refractory period. It did things to him.

"When's the last time you begged for ass, huh?” Mickey asked scraping his teeth against Ian's jaw.

Ian grinned, his eyes closing as Mickey trailed his lips and teeth down to his throat. The last time he begged Mickey, he'd been tied up and edged so many times, for so long, that he was half-convinced he was about to have a heart attack, "Christmas."

"You  _would_  have an exact answer," Mickey snorted a laugh against Ian's skin. "That was a good night though."

"Fuck yeah it was."

**Author's Note:**

> *cough* idek.
> 
> I wrote this in like a few hours so, I mean, it is what it is lol  
> (also the praise-kink thing is very new to me... ijs in case it was real obvious)


End file.
